A Day for Maa

In Sanatana Dharma, we don’t need a designated day to honor our mothers, because every mantra, every offering, every ritual begins with her.

Yet, in the rush of modern life, it helps to pause and mark a day like today—not as a way to “fit in” but as a sacred opportunity to bow down to the matrishakti, the divine force of motherhood, in all its forms.

In our tradition, a mother is not just a caregiver. She is the first guru. The first deity. The first universe we ever knew.

The Taittiriya Upanishad teaches us:

“Mātṛ devo bhava” — May you regard your mother as God.

And our ancestors knew what they were talking about.

— Because before we learn the name of any deity, we learn to call out “Ma.”

— Before we are bathed in Ganga, we are bathed in her lap.

— Before we offer flowers at a temple, we offer them to her feet.

Growing up in a Hindu home, I saw motherhood not just in my own mother—but in every murti, every chant, every story.

— I saw her in Maa Annapurna, who fed Shiva himself and reminded us that love begins in nourishment.

— I saw her in Maa Yashoda, whose fierce protectiveness gave Krishna a childhood full of mischief and grace.

— I saw her in Devi Parvati, who balanced cosmic power with human softness, and in Maa Kali, whose rage was born not of anger but of protection.

And of course, in Bhūmi Devi, our Earth—who bears our weight, our wounds, and our worship.

But I’ve also seen the Devi in my Maa—

In the woman who sacrificed her sleep so I could rest. In the woman who bore not just my body, but my anger, my tears, my silence. In the woman who knew when to fight for me, and when to let me fall.

And maybe, like me (and most teenagers), you have a complicated relationship with your mother. Maybe love came in hard forms, through discipline, silence, or tradition. But even then, there is space to honor her not as a perfect being, but as a soul walking her own journey, carrying both light and shadow.

In Hindu culture, motherhood is not restricted to biology.

— A teacher who gives wisdom is also Maa.

— A nurse, a caregiver, a neighbor who watches over you—they too are extensions of the divine feminine.

Even the act of creating anything—an idea, a piece of art, a prayer—is an act of mātritva.

So today, on Mother’s Day, I light a diya at my altar—not just for my own mother, but for all forms of Maa:

For the Devi who watches over me.

For the Earth who grounds me.

For the women who raised me, broke me, built me again.

For the Divine Feminine within me, too, when I choose gentleness, when I nurture instead of control, when I hold instead of hurt.

And maybe that’s the most Hindu way to celebrate Mother’s Day, not with gifts or hashtags, but with gratitude, remembrance, and reverence.

Not just once a year. But today, intentionally.

To every mother—birth-giver, caretaker, teacher, goddess, or soul—thank you.

And to Maa herself, the Adi Shakti: we see you. We worship you. We remember you.

Jai Mata Di.

Mātṛ devo bhava.

The author, Abhimanyu Gupta, is a high school student, a CoHNA youth volunteer, and CYAN leader.